


The Question of a Kiss

by shellikybookie



Category: Gungrave
Genre: Awkwardness, Couch Sex, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellikybookie/pseuds/shellikybookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon comes home late, and Harry has a question for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Question of a Kiss

 

Heads came up when Brandon walked through the door.

"Oh, Brandon, you're home," Jolice said with an easy smile from behind the counter. "We didn't know whether to expect you." His tone was not in the least bit accusing. It never was. Jolice was like that, but Brandon knew he had made him worry, and he ducked his head in apology.

"Out with Maria again," Harry said from where he lounged on the worn sofa. He wore a smirk that said he had his own ideas about what they'd been up to together. His tone was teasing, but all the same, there was something about it that made Brandon frown minutely. But before he could say anything about it, Kenny jumped down from his barstool, and took a mock swing at Brandon which he dodged easily.

Kenny made a devastated face. "No fair, Brandon!" he whined. "I want to meet girls too, you know. She must have friends, right? You have to introduce me!" Kenny grabbed him by the vest, and made as if to shake him, but all he managed to do was disarrange his clothes. "In-tro-duce me!"

Nathan laughed over Kenny's shoulder. "Get real. Who'd want to look at your ugly face, huh?" He caught Kenny in a headlock that nearly jerked him off his feet, and then proceeded to grind the button of Kenny's cap into his head with his knuckles.

"Ow! Ow! Hey! Harr-y!"

Smiling at the two boys scuffling, Jolice untied his apron, and folded it on the counter. "Well, now that you're home, I should get some things for dinner," he said to Brandon, coming around the bar.

"Ow! Why, you..."

"You guys go with him. It'll be dark soon," Harry said abruptly, bringing an immediate halt to the escalating scrap. Nathan let go of Kenny who landed on his ass with a thump.

"Sure."

Brandon made as if to go, too, but Harry said, "Brandon, come here a minute. I want to ask you something."

Brandon hesitated in the doorway and waved for the others to go on ahead without him, and then he turned back to Harry. His friend motioned for him to join him on the sofa. He appeared completely at ease sitting there with his arms resting on the back, and his legs sprawled out comfortably in front of him, but there was something about him, some tension in him that said otherwise. Brandon sat gingerly beside him on the edge of the cushion, and waited for him to speak.

"You were gone a long time," Harry said.

Brandon only shrugged a little uncomfortably.

Harry chuckled. "So, did you kiss her?"

"Harry..." Brandon averted his eyes in embarrassment, staring absorbedly at his hands folded in his lap. Surely, Harry couldn't have kept him just to ask him that.

"I bet you did," Harry continued with a knowing smirk. "I bet she let you touch her, too." His gaze was intent, and his eyes sparkled with mischief, and something else that hid just beneath it. "She let you get your hands on those soft tits?"

"What?!" The look of shock on Brandon's face was priceless, flickering between offence and dire embarrassment.

Harry snickered. Leaning forward as if he were sharing a confidence, he said, "She let you under her skirt... let you get your fingers up inside her? Damn... Was she hot, Brandon? She get wet for you?"

"D-don't talk about her like that!" Brandon said hotly, stuttering only a little. "It wasn't like that..."

Harry chuckled again, lowly. "Yeah," he said, "I bet," but he didn't back off. His hand, one minute resting on the back of the worn out sofa, the next on Brandon's tense thigh, slid down to cover the soft bulge between his friend's legs. "She wanted this, huh?" Harry said, squeezing in a way that made Brandon's breath catch.

"H-Harry..."

"Yeah..." Harry kneaded him through his jeans, sitting beside him on the sofa, watching him all the while as if it were nothing unusual. Brandon's nervous gaze flickered to the open doorway. What if Kenny should come in, or...

"Did you get hard for her, too?" He was, already, under Harry's insistent hand. "A sweet girl like Maria... I bet she didn't even know what to do with you."

Harry's fingers popped the button on Brandon's fly and eased the zipper down carefully, one tooth at a time. When he freed Brandon's cock, the touch of those fingers on his heated flesh made him exhale raggedly. Harry's hand closed on him, calloused and rough, pulling at his skin. Maria's... Maria's hands would be soft... would be...

"Unh..."

Harry had licked his own hand and started to stroke properly; slow and firm, just the way Brandon liked for himself. His thumbnail teased at the tip, and made Brandon's hips jerk, and pulled that little sound from his throat.

"Like this?" Harry asked with that half smirk still on his face. "Girls like her don't know how to do this properly. She probably wouldn't suck you either, right? They never do."

"Harry..."

"Tch. Always acting like it's some big deal..."

Brandon watched in dazed amazement as Harry got down on his knees in front of the sofa. His arms slipped under Brandon's knees and pressed them further apart, and he pulled his hips forward. The movement made his erection bump the underside of Harry's chin. He was clean-shaven, but his jaw was still stubble-rough against Brandon's sensitive skin. When Harry licked his lips, Brandon could hardly take his eyes off them, and then they were on him, and oh sweet God, his tongue! It stroked him lasciviously while the soft heat of Harry's mouth worked him up and down.

Brandon's head dropped back against the sofa, and he moaned for the first time, deep and pleasured. He'd never felt anything like this before, never even imagined it. His fingers sought purchase in Harry's short hair, and he cradled the back of Harry's head as his hips rose unconsciously to meet that welcoming mouth.

Harry choked a little then, and his hands settled on Brandon's hips to still them.

"Don't. No, don't..." Brandon murmured, straining against Harry grip, but Harry didn't stop entirely. He held just the tip of Brandon's cock in his mouth, and his tongue teased it mercilessly while Brandon fought the desire to thrust fully back into that heat.

The first spurt of his climax surprised them both, spilling onto Harry's lapping tongue, and then Harry drew back, wrapping his hand around Brandon again, and stroking him through completion.

They looked at each other then, Harry's swollen lips glistening with the semen that spattered Brandon's thighs and stomach. "Brandon..." Harry's voice was tense with need, and looking at him, Brandon knew what he was asking. He lifted his hips, and let Harry pull his jeans down his legs.

"Come on, turn around," Harry said softly, urgently, and Brandon slid off the sofa to kneel on the floor where Harry made room for him. Harry pressed down on Brandon's back, pushing his chest into the sofa, and Brandon could feel the heat of that touch even through the double layer of his shirt and vest.

"Yeah," Harry sighed, and his thigh parted Brandon's further. Brandon could feel the hard length of Harry's cock through his pants, rubbing against his ass. He swallowed hard.

Brandon heard the sound of Harry's zipper, he heard him spit into his hand and then groan as he used it to slick himself. Those same saliva-wet fingers wormed their way between his cheeks, and Brandon tried to relax as first one and then another thrust inside.

Harry plunged them in and out a few times, slowly at first, trying to coax Brandon's body to accept him. When he scissored his fingers and added a third, Brandon's breath hitched and he pushed back against them, and Harry's next thrust was harder.

But then, his fingers were gone, and the hard heat of his cock nudged at Brandon's entrance. "Sorry," he said roughly, and he bent Brandon over the edge of the sofa. Brandon's fingers clawed at threadbare upholstery, and he turned his face into the seat cushions to muffle his cry as Harry pushed in all at once. Arching his back up, Brandon took a few sobbing breaths as the initial pain passed, and then Harry's arms came around his waist and he began to move slowly in and out until it became easier for them both.

"Fuck, Brandon, you're so hot." Harry's breath gusted hotly over the back of his neck, and made him shiver. Harry looped his arms under Brandon's and gripped him by the shoulders, and he snapped his hips forward, gaining force and speed. Each thrust pushed Brandon into the sofa and ground his oversensitized cock against the twill cushions, making him gasp and push back.

Then, Harry's rhythm became erratic, and his fingers dug into Brandon's shoulders. He thrust once, twice deeply, and came with a deep-throated groan. Collapsing on top of his friend, chest to back, Harry rested his sweat-sheened forehead between Brandon's shoulders while the two of them heaved together, trying to regain control of their breathing.

At length, Harry pulled away from Brandon and sat back on his heels, refastening his pants with clumsy hands. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, and looked at his friend still hunched half on and half off the sofa. "You okay?" he asked, belatedly concerned.

"Yeah," Brandon murmured, and he pushed himself up and slid down onto the floor. He looked around for a minute, and Harry, seeing them first, tossed him his pants. Brandon pulled them on wordlessly, grimacing as he eased the denim up over his sticky thighs.

"Damn, it smells like sex in here," Harry said, and he lit up a cigarette. The phosphorous flare of the match stung the air with a chemical tang, and the spicy herbal smell of cigarette smoke wafted over Brandon's senses. He didn't smoke, but he took a drag when Harry passed it to him anyway. They exhaled together, and their blue breaths twisted and mingled and drifted up to the ceiling.

"I didn't kiss her," Brandon said.

Harry said, "I know."


End file.
